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ter and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail’s fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress. 蝸牛感懷 蝸牛用觸角推進墨綠色的 夜晚,因為草葉上濕漉漉 沾滿水珠,耷拉著交織在 它推出的明亮小徑,雨在上面 使大地的昏暗更加昏暗。它 在欲望之林中緩緩蠕動?! ∷妒硶r,蒼白的觸角 幾乎不動。我無法說出 什么力量起作用,在那里